


Extra scenes of Lucifer series 2

by Keenir



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Gen, I haven't seen the series 2 pilot yet - going to watch it On Demand, Lucifer's mum, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:52:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8091913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keenir/pseuds/Keenir
Summary: What might be some scenes they could potentially have used to introduce or build the character of Lucifer's mother?





	

"You're her." Maz said it with a lack of fear and an equal lack of concern. "You're her?" now with a measure of disbelief.

"I Am She," said Lucifer's mother.

An evil thought crossed Maze's mind, and she grabbed the good detective who was on the way to the nearest door out of this party.  Said Maze, "This is Chloe, a friend of your son.  Detective, this is Lucifer's mother."

Chloe just nodded.  _Wow, and I thought my mom was well-preserved for her age._   "Nice to meet you.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go arrest someone.  Coming, Lucifer?"

"I..." Lucifer said.

"Still searching for wrongdoers to smite?" his mother asked of him.

"Its complicated."

Quite unimpressed, "That was your excuse when your father had me arrested all those years ago."

"Arrested?" Chloe repeated.

Not desiring to see what would happen if his mother got in a fight with the reality-altering Chloe  (just ask his wounds how disabling her perception could be), and perhaps, just maybe, to get back at Maze for introducing them, Lucifer asked, "But you're out of prison now, aren't you, Mother?"

"I am," she said.

"Good to hear," Chloe said, still planning to run this woman's name and prints.  "By the way, I didn't catch your name."

"My son hasn't mentioned me?"

"Lucifer mostly talks about himself."

"He gets that from his father.  I'm Agnes McShera, expert in applied divinities, physics, and belief."

* * *

Agnes was sitting at one of the little plastic tables at the party, when she was told, "I think I may've taken too much chocolate cake.  Here, you can have part of one," holding out to Agnes a plate with a slice of cake sliced in half.  "I'm Trixie.   You were talking with my mom."

Having met Mazikeen, Agnes doubted that was the child's mother - _unless my boys have improved their demon-making skills while I was away_ , she granted.  "Mazikeen or the detective?"

"Dectective Decker," Trixie said.

Tasting it, "This is good," Agnes said.

"I know - chocolate cake fixes everything," Trixie said with the voice of experience.

"Then this won't be enough," Agnes said, holding out her flat palms...and new paper plates formed on them, with slices of cake on each plate.

"Whoa," Trixie said, taking the one Agnes offered her.

Agnes smiled.  It was truly the little things that gave pleasure, such as the girl's reaction.

"Lucifer can't do that," Trixie added.

Agnes blinked.  "What do you know of my son?" she asked.

"He's really special," Trixie said, stabbing her new piece of cake.

"Yes, he is that," Agnes said.  "But he can only make a few things.  I can make many things."

"Because you're his mom."

_Mother.  Co-Creator._ "Precisely."

Trixie frowned, chewing her new piece of cake.

"Problem?"

"This isn't chocolate, this is carrot cake," Trixie said.

"I prefer carrots," Agnes said.  "They're better."

"Nobody's perfect," Trixie shrugged.  "You're still cool."

"Thank you."

* * *

Linda was experienced enough at these matters that she didn't glance at her watch. She simply waited. Nevermind that Lucifer had forewarned her that - regarding Agnes McShera -  'she can outstare anyone. Just ask Medusa.' Which, really, just begged for delving into at a later time - given that Medusa was part of Greek mythology, and hadn't been picked up by any modern or ancient forms of Judeo-Christian belief.. _.unlike the Devil, Lucifer._

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Linda asked, using a trick she'd learned with Lucifer and other patients: ask something they would be quick to dismiss, but use their reaction to get her foot in the conversational door, and go from there.

"I was uncomfortable, doctor," McShera replied. "I am silent because I know it is impolite to speak something to which one already knows the answer."

"Perhaps I could help; sometimes it proves beneficial to get a second set of eyes on a problem, even if we are sure we have the only imaginable solution."

"Eyes are not the problem," was what Linda was told, but McShera had a small smile as that was said. "But very well.  My sons all doubt my motives - three have already demanded to know what sneakiness I am up to, what Vault-shattering disaster I am going to unleash upon Creation.  My husband refuses to say a word to me.  And the tenants..." and she sighed, leaning back against the sofa in a motion that Linda suspected was not defeat...at least not yet.

"Would you like for him to?" Linda asked.

"No.  Yes.  I find myself in the same position as his groupies, waiting for a sign of any sort."  More under her breath than conversational, "I never asked for the world, but I got it anyway."  _And then...betrayal._

"Did he, um...?"

Looking at the doctor, Agnes said, "Visit me in my prison?  I suspected Lucifer or one of his brothers told you, doctor, but your awkwardness is refreshing and reassuring.  And to answer your question, no, there were no visits.  From the day I was hurled into that cage, to the moment I was able to leave it, I remained in a confinement entirely solitary."

"I'm sorry," Linda said.

Agnes shrugged.

* * *

Maze was on the defensive as soon as she stepped foot into her apartment  (moved into shortly after Lucifer had done that whole tasteless resurrection thing), and was only slightly comforted by the fact that the intruder was Amenadiel...though she could only hear him thus far.

"Don't look!" Amenadiel shouted at her.

Maze just raised her eyebrows at that, though rolling her eyes was definately in the cards, in her opinion.  "I've seen you naked, and you've seen me the same," she reminded him.

"This is...worse."

Now Maze snorted.  "You do realize you're making me want to see you even more now, right?  Or is that the plan, some sort of kinky angel willingness thing?"

A slight growl which faded into a resigned sigh.  "Very well.  I attempted to confront my mother and persuade her to confess what she was up to."

"Plan went to hell?" Maze mocked him playfully.

"Worse," Amenadiel grumpled. 

_Worse?_

"She snapped her fingers -" _purely for show, no doubt,_ "- and I moulted.  I came right here."

Trying to picture the mighty Amenadiel sans feathers, Maze couldn't help but chuckle.

* * *

Maze found her again, this time at the local museum. "Never would have taken you for a history buff."

"Remembering fonder times," McShera said.

Maze leaned closer to the exhibit, read the card describing and translating the clay item on display...and then squinted as she re-read it. Standing up straight, Maze looked at her and asked, slightly awed, "You're really her?"

"I suppose I should be relieved tales of my existence are permitted in any form, among the Host or among others not of this flesh."

Excited, with plans beginning to form in her mind, Mazikeen said, "What you did, it was -"

"I know fully well what I did, young lady," McShera said. "Now I will take my leave of this building. I did not depart the Below to gain fans or armies; if that is too much to ask, I ask you leave me be," and walked away.

_Well then, like any good little demon ought to, I'm going to find out what it is you do want._ Mazikeen grinned both in her outer appearance and deep in her flesh and malshapen bones.

In three languages, the card under the exhibit's tablet read To Yahweh And His Asherah.


End file.
